David and Goliath
by Clopin K. Trouillefou
Summary: Goliath finds a lone gargoyle egg in the forest outside Castle Wyvern and takes it in. As time passes, the hatchling becomes his surrogate son and comes to be known as David.


Goliath wandered through the forest, trying to escape his boredom. There was little to do, little happening. He sighed; so many times he had been through these woods to hunt, many times he had gotten lost in them when he was naught but a young hatchling. He wanted to turn back and see what everyone else at Castle Wyvern was up to, but something kept him from returning. He wandered away from the path he was following into the thicker brush around it. Suddenly he stopped eyes wide with fear; scattered all around him were the dismembered limbs of a gargoyle. He picked up the dead body of a female, still whole, and gazed at it sadly; this was the work of humans. He wandered a little farther in search of any other dead gargoyles. Once again he stopped, but what he had found was not what he expected; instead of finding the remains of other gargoyles he found a nest with a single egg snug inside of it. 

The clan's former leader looked out over the horizon scanning the skies for Goliath; dawn was still hours away yet he worried. It wasn't like him to be gone for so long, even when he was in the peaceful serenity of the woods. A female approached the elder, the eyes beneath her headpiece questioning her leader.

"Not yet, lass," he replied in his wizened accented voice 

She too looked to the skies, worriedly brushing a taloned hand through her wild red hair. Th older gargoyle turned away ready to leave and find something to take his mind off Goliath's absence. 

"Look!" the female shouted excitedly. 

He turned and there in the distance was Goliath gliding toward them with something clutched in his arms. 

"What's that now, lad?" the elder wanted to know. 

"I found it in the woods," Goliath replied, "There were slain gargoyles not too far from it." 

"Best bring it down to the rookery, then," he replied. 

The years passed by quickly; Goliath was always in the rookery when he was nowhere else to be found. He was easily able to identify the egg though it looked like all the others. 

The young female, his mate and second in command, also grew rather fond of it and was usually with him, sometimes she went down there without her mate. Ten years flew by and the young couple entered the rookery with the rookery parents the day the eggs were due to hatch. One by one they hatched into beautiful hatchlings, each one unique and bearing resemblance to its real parents. In little time all the eggs had hatched, all except one that is. Goliath's heart sank, the single unhatched egg was the one he had found and he was very sure that it had been laid around the same time as the others. The clan's elder had also been very sure it had been laid about the same time.

"I don't understand," Goliath said, "Why didn't it hatch? I know it was laid the night I found it. I mean it was still a little damp. Mentor, did you not say the eggs of the clan were laid that night as well?" 

"Aye, lad," the old gargoyle replied, "But I don't understand anymore than you do." 

It was two weeks later and Prince Malcolm was in the rookery searching for some peace and quiet. Quite suddenly he heard something and turned in its direction; the unhatched egg had a small crack in it. He slowly approached and knelt beside it. 

The cracking sound came again as a small hole formed and a small squeak was heard. As the hatchling within squirmed in an effort to get out, the egg tipped over onto its side. The Prince peered into the tiny hole and saw the black outer wing of the hatchling. It continued to scratch at its shell as the cries and squeaks became louder. 

"Prince Malcolm?" he heard a deep voice call from the entrance. 

"Goliath," the Prince said, hearing the gargoyle approach, "Come here." 

Goliath came into view and approached, wondering what was wrong. Then he noticed the egg moving and heard the hatchling's cries. 

A few years later, a few minutes after dinner, the young Princess Catherine was standing outside on the balcony. Down below, the young hatchlings laughed as they played the silly games that infants play. She watched for a moment then caught sight of her father approaching Goliath. She never could understand why her father kept those beasts around. 

"Goliath," Prince Malcolm said. 

"Yes?" He asked looking up from watching the little ones. 

"Why does that one not play with the others?" he asked. 

Goliath looked to the young hatchling the Prince was referring to, the one that he had found. He had asked himself that same question many times, unwilling to see the answer. It was simple; his rookery siblings didn't accept him let alone play with him. Instead, the little one sat by himself, watching. 

"I do not know," was the gargoyle's reply, "He's a strange one. My angel of night does not seem particularly fond of him. Come to think of it, none of my kind seem to want to accept him." 

Meanwhile, the ten-year old Princess had come down from her room, wondering what her father was talking to Goliath about. Suddenly, she tripped over something, she turned to see what it was; it was the outcast hatchling. He just lay there gazing up at the stars, seemingly oblivious to everything around him. She glared at him, angry because she had tripped, but before she could say anything, the former clan leader approached. 

"Excuse me, Princess," he said bending down to pick up the hatchling. 

He took him and sat him down with his rookery brothers and sisters, but he was avoided, so he wandered away. Suddenly, he bumped into someone's leg; he looked up and scowling down at him was the second in command. 

"Stay out of my way, reject," she snarled angrily pushing him away with her foot. 

"Love," Goliath said patiently, "you needn't be so harsh. He meant no harm." 

Goliath looked from her to the hatchling; he was so afraid of her with understanding as she didn't like him one bit. 

The hatchling, which over the years earned the nickname David, was slightly darker than the humans in skin color, his inner wings were a bright gold and the outers were black. His wings' outer rim was like the second-in-command's. He had large round black eyes and thick wavy black hair and he had one tiny horn on either side of his forehead and a small pointy nose. But unlike most gargoyles, he didn't have eye ridges; instead he had black eyebrows. As the years past, Prince Malcolm taught him to read and write and he learned to hanad-to-hand combat by watching the soldiers. He also somehow made friends with Princess Catherine. He was never far from Goliath, who had taken him under his wing and cared for him; that was what earned him his nickname. All the other members of the clan outcasted him, all except three young mischievous gargoyles and their dog. 

Then his life as he knew it was about to change, forever. It was the year 994 AD, the Vikings were attacking the castle and the soldiers fought hard to hold them off till nightfall. The Vikings' leader, Hakon, was climbing the castle wall to where Goliath sat in stone sleep when night fell. The gargoyles awoke, prepared to fight; Goliath grabbed hold of Hakon's unsheathed blade. His clan began to fight off the Vikings. David valiantly fought off a Viking with the use of his sword and beheaded his opponent. As he gazed at the headless body, he dropped his sword, feeling a little nauseated. The Vikings made a retreat as the clan and soldiers cheered. David made his way up to the top to Goliath. 

"You didn't kill Hakon?" he questioned in a very light Scottish accent. 

"No," was his leader's answer, "Why?" 

"No reason," David replied quickly, looking nervous. 

Later that night, David watched as the second-in-command bandaged Goliath's wounded hand as the Captain spoke to him.

"Um, Goliath?" he asked quietly, rubbing his arm in a nervous gesture, "Can I go with you to see the Princess?" 

"I don't see why you should, boy," the Captain snapped. 

"Why do you think Goliath would let you, reject?" the female snarled. 

David merely turned and flew off in search of his friends. He found them in the courtyard and he landed beside them. 

"Hey, David!" the red beaked one greeted him. 

"Allo," he returned, grabbing an apple. 

"Great job fighting that Viking," the small green web winged gargoyle said, "I didn't know you had it in you!" 

David shrugged sitting on the ground with the dog beast and began petting him. He was a klutz, an outcast among outcasts with the most unique design and ears that were definitely too big for his thin face and wiry form, yet these three didn't care. Suddenly, he didn't fell like being around anyone, so he wandered off to the shadows to read. That's when the trouble started; a peasant boy named Tom had begun talking to the three gargoyles when his mother threw a log at the beaked one. Goliath's love jumped down and snarled at her and the three youngsters began threatening the peasants. Goliath showed up and ordered the group and their dog to go to the rookery, where David had gone unbeknownst to them when the trouble started. 

Day came in a matter of time and when the four awoke they emerged from the rookery to find dead soldiers and shattered gargoyles everywhere. Goliath let out a roar of anguish at the destruction; the elder inspected the broken bows to find they'd been sabotaged. The peasants, Princess Catherine, and the Magus had been taken prisoner and everything was destroyed. Goliath gathered his remaining warriors to hunt down the Vikings. David emerged after they'd gone, unaware that they'd gone after the Vikings; he gazed at the destruction all around him. Part of him was glad that his clan was destroyed, the other part wept because they were his clan, all he'd ever known. He began running and leapt into the air, his wings spread, and gained lift. He glided to where Goliath usually stood to find nothing but rubble and shattered stone. His anguish grew as he held some of it in his hands, staring at it in disbelief. 

"Goliath," he whispered, tears racing down his cheeks, "No, no, this can't be! Goliath!" 

David let out an earsplitting screech of anguish, his tear filled eyes glowing white and then he collapsed to his knees, his wings falling limp behind him as he banged his fist on the ground. Everything was gone. 

Goliath's angel of night wandered the courtyard, awaiting Goliath's return, then she spied a sillouhette on Goliath's usual perch: David. He slowly glided down, contemplating suicide; he had nothing to live for, Goliath was dead, the Princess was gone. Suddenly, he looked up sensing someone's glance; it was the second in command glaring at him.

"I'd have thought," he choked, struggling to regain his composure, "this destruction would've softened your fierce hatred for me. We are the last of our clan, we might as well put up with each other." 

"When will you learn?" she replied, "You always were a pathetic, weak, little fool. I will never tolerate you; I'll die first. I don't hate you; I despise you with a passion! You are not of this clan, you were a foundling. You don't belong here, you never have and you never will." 

"I will prove you wrong. Goliath hated the way you treated me and I will prove that I do belong as his son. I'll prove to you that I am strong, as strong as Goliath was. He will live on in me. He believed in me and I found a strength I didn't know I had. I may be much smaller than the rest of the clan, but I'm not weaker. I was the best hunter, swordsman, and archer. You'll never take that away!" 

With that, he left his home and his past…   



End file.
